Part 2 of Chapter One: Fated Meeting
The Sorceress sniffed in disgust. Her fire had gone out for the fourth time tonight. She hated to admit it to others, but she wasn't even skilled in the arts of fire. Her focus has always been the cold. However, she did not like her food that way. She was in a heavily wooded area, and hadn't heard anything, so she decided that she'd go look for some firewood. She got her knapsack, grabbed her staff, and set out into the dense forest.
Bran ran quickly. She had gone away and he wasn't going to waste a second. He was ravenous after travelling through the deserts. He had finally come upon this strange woman, waiting for the right moment. He rushed into the clearing, and started the fire by rubbing some sticks together with brush. He blew on it, making it catch quickly. He quickly chopped some wood and threw it on. He waited awhile, grabbed the roasting Junle Uchin, and ran straight ahead. He stopped, sniffing the air. There was more food nearby! He rushed forward, halting when his senses came back to him. Of course...The woman would need food too. He looked longingly at the sack of food, yet continued foward into the brush, willing to fill his belly as much he could with this morsel.
The moon had risen to the center of the starlit sky when the Sorceress came back. She had heard a little bit of noise, so had come back early. She stepped into the clearing and dropped the wood she had collected, mouth hanging agape. The fire was up all the way, but her food was gone. After a little searching, she found the bones, knawed to small pieces. She glanced around, not wanting to meet what had done this. She stopped when she realized something that would be critical to her finding who did this. Nothing else had been disturbed. The rest of her food supplies were still in her sack, which she left close enough to the fire for whatever had come through here to have found it. She pondered what it could've been, when she came to at least one sure answer. {Whatever it was, it was no animal. }
{ Had she seen Bran? Bran was smart, yes, smart when it came to nature. Smart. } He bent down and chewed the leftover bone from the Uchin, trying to cure the still rumbling belly. He watched the woman from atop a branch, being careful not to be hear. He would wait until she moved on. He knew she was going the same way he was. { Maybe help Bran. Strong, control nature. Like me! } He smiled as he climbed down, creating a make-shift bed out of some nearby brush. He quickly dozed.
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The Paladin couldn't make sense of it. He was in the right place, both his mind and sense of direction told him so. Yet, he couldn't help feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here. He felt eyes everywhere and shadows lurked behind the corners. He shook inside, as he thought: { May Zakarum protect me. } He stepped into the deserts, setting forth the seperation of those who never met...
He tossed down his sword and took up a mace. "If the undead wish to face the Holy, then let them." He rushed into the horde of zombies, shouting in the name of the Church of Zakarum. He ducked under one of the slow swings and swept his weapon down, taking out the legs of his would-be attacker. He continued fighting until a thunderous cry was heard. Everything, including the zombies he was doing battle with, had frozen in place. A rumbling started and out of nowhere a Balrog appeared. He looked around in anger, seeking his prey. It stepped foward, crushing one of the zombies under him. The Paladin turned around and took off, knowing he was no match for this titan of Hell. The Balrog roared with fire, scorching the Paladin's back. He faltered in his step, and knelt for a momentary prayer. It was all he needed. An aura of healing surrounded him and he gained strength as he ran. He searched for the exit with his eyes, while he kept his ears busy with the ever present Balrog. Stones started tumbling in his path, and at first he thought that the Balrog must've been throwing boulders at him. As more came, and the Caves filled with an evil feeling, he reconized that this had been a trap. { But, how did they know I would be here? } He grimaced in horror, as the cave started filling with Balrog. He prepared for a battle...What happened next, he didn't think he would ever understand...
One of the Balrog stepped foward. He was bigger then the others and apparently their leader. He reached toward his belt, where his mighty sword lay. The Paladin started foward, meaning to get at least one blow in, when the Balrog spoke: "Halt!" The Paladin stopped dead in his tracks.
{ It can talk! }
"Yes, I can talk, feeble-minded human." The Balrog spat in disgust. "I have a message for you. It says that you have your chance now to go back. If you do not, I will be forced to take you prisoner." The Paladin was stunned.
{ 'Since when did Hell's demons speak? }
The Balrog smiled, showing sharp teeth and a breath with the reeking smell of death. "I am Rarg The Tainted, if you would like to refer to me as something other then Balrog, Herios." The Paladin was once again taken back.
{ How did he know my name? } Rarg sniffed.
"Ignorant mortals. You don't think we've been watching you by chance, do you? How else would we have set you up for this?" He gestured around him. "Now, are you going to turn back or not?"
Herios thought for a second then said: "One question." Rarg nodded. "Why would the Three want me as a prisoner?" Rarg shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Who knows? Their buisness is their own. We are only the enforcers."
Herios nodded. He had expected as much an answer. He sought his own heart for a moment. While deep in thought, he caught a clear image of an enraged Barbarian, tearing through what looked like the legendary town of Tristram. He lifted his head, knowing that is where they would take him. He threw his mace to the ground. "I'm not going anywhere. You'll either have to take me prisoner, or I'll fight until my death."
The Balrogs laughed at this, but Rarg, apparently the only one able to speak in "mortal tongues", spoke: "Fine. You'll be coming with us then." He rose his hands into the sky, preparing the portal to Tristram...
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Teiln trudged on, dreary, but on the alert. He had gotten as far as the Jungle when he met real trouble. His mana was drained, and he was traveling alone, without protection. He had hoped to find some kind of town, yet all he found were destroyed villa's and wrecked homes. Picking through the ruins, he had managed to find some food, but nothing that would keep him alive for long. He had to find somewhere to rest, and soon.
Bran heard another coming from behind. He sniffed the air. { Death! Bad smell! } He immediatly turned around to face this thing. He had no idea what he was planning on attacking, would later become one of his many new friends.
Areith, the Sorceress, stopped suddenly as she heard a sharp cry from behind her. "Whatever's been following me has decided it's time." She turned, ready for the battle. Yet, she didn't see anything around here. She heard a male voice yell all of a sudden, calling for...His mother? She hurried toward the voice, careful to stay on the trail she had made through here. She was almost to the source of the voice, when she heard another.
"Quiet, you fool! I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped ahead a bit, seeing a huge man, and a withered, old one. The old man was walking away from the other, who was on the ground, rocking back and forth. She came from her hiding, and called for the old man. He turned around, a grim look upon his face. He raised his eyebrows.
"What did you do to him?" She said, while gesturing toward the other man.
The old man uttered a small laugh. "Guess at what I am, then maybe you'll find out." She looked clueless, so he decided to help her a little. He gestured toward the ground. "Watch..." He started chanting. Very quickly and without warning, a creature came from the ground. The huge man shrank back and gave a startled cry. The old man looked at him in half-disgust, half-amusement. The Sorc understood now.
"Necromancer..." She lifted her upper lip in a snarl.
"Death." The huge man said. "Death. Bad." The old man shook his head.
"A Barbarian I see." He tapped his head. "Not too smart, this one. But, apparently in tune with something, even if it's not his own mind." He crouched down to the Barb. "What's your name, smarty?"
The Sorc stepped foward to stop his cruelness, when the Barb spoke.
"You not evil...Just death." He stopped rocking and looked up. "Bran. Bran my name." The Necro nodded.
"I'm Teiln. I'm not here to harm anyone. Just to restore balance." He got up, looking at the Sorc, grinning slightly. "He yours?"
"No."
"Well, he seemed to have been following you." The Sorc grinned.
"So, this is the person that's been eating my scraps." Teiln looked confused, but just shrugged. He started to walk off again, when Bran called out suddenly.
"Stop!"
Teiln turned."What now? Do you want to be cursed again?" Bran shook his head. "Then go away."
He continued walking. Bran got up and grabbed his arm.
"No. You go with us."
The Necro looked at Bran's huge hand, then to Areith. "What's he doing?"
She shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know him."
The Necro looked close into Bran's suprisingly calm eyes, and caught a vision. The Necromancer was alone, strugling against some unseen force. He fought as long as he could, but eventually he died. Then, another vision came. This time, he was with four others. The Sorc that stood before him, a Paladin, and two young Amazons. He turned his head in this vision, seeing this Barbarian, standing before a great terror. One that had haunted him into going on this quest...Diablo...
The Sorceress sniffed in disgust. Her fire had gone out for the fourth time tonight. She hated to admit it to others, but she wasn't even skilled in the arts of fire. Her focus has always been the cold. However, she did not like her food that way. She was in a heavily wooded area, and hadn't heard anything, so she decided that she'd go look for some firewood. She got her knapsack, grabbed her staff, and set out into the dense forest.
Bran ran quickly. She had gone away and he wasn't going to waste a second. He was ravenous after travelling through the deserts. He had finally come upon this strange woman, waiting for the right moment. He rushed into the clearing, and started the fire by rubbing some sticks together with brush. He blew on it, making it catch quickly. He quickly chopped some wood and threw it on. He waited awhile, grabbed the roasting Junle Uchin, and ran straight ahead. He stopped, sniffing the air. There was more food nearby! He rushed forward, halting when his senses came back to him. Of course...The woman would need food too. He looked longingly at the sack of food, yet continued foward into the brush, willing to fill his belly as much he could with this morsel.
The moon had risen to the center of the starlit sky when the Sorceress came back. She had heard a little bit of noise, so had come back early. She stepped into the clearing and dropped the wood she had collected, mouth hanging agape. The fire was up all the way, but her food was gone. After a little searching, she found the bones, knawed to small pieces. She glanced around, not wanting to meet what had done this. She stopped when she realized something that would be critical to her finding who did this. Nothing else had been disturbed. The rest of her food supplies were still in her sack, which she left close enough to the fire for whatever had come through here to have found it. She pondered what it could've been, when she came to at least one sure answer. {Whatever it was, it was no animal. }
{ Had she seen Bran? Bran was smart, yes, smart when it came to nature. Smart. } He bent down and chewed the leftover bone from the Uchin, trying to cure the still rumbling belly. He watched the woman from atop a branch, being careful not to be hear. He would wait until she moved on. He knew she was going the same way he was. { Maybe help Bran. Strong, control nature. Like me! } He smiled as he climbed down, creating a make-shift bed out of some nearby brush. He quickly dozed.
----------------------------------
The Paladin couldn't make sense of it. He was in the right place, both his mind and sense of direction told him so. Yet, he couldn't help feeling that he wasn't supposed to be here. He felt eyes everywhere and shadows lurked behind the corners. He shook inside, as he thought: { May Zakarum protect me. } He stepped into the deserts, setting forth the seperation of those who never met...
He tossed down his sword and took up a mace. "If the undead wish to face the Holy, then let them." He rushed into the horde of zombies, shouting in the name of the Church of Zakarum. He ducked under one of the slow swings and swept his weapon down, taking out the legs of his would-be attacker. He continued fighting until a thunderous cry was heard. Everything, including the zombies he was doing battle with, had frozen in place. A rumbling started and out of nowhere a Balrog appeared. He looked around in anger, seeking his prey. It stepped foward, crushing one of the zombies under him. The Paladin turned around and took off, knowing he was no match for this titan of Hell. The Balrog roared with fire, scorching the Paladin's back. He faltered in his step, and knelt for a momentary prayer. It was all he needed. An aura of healing surrounded him and he gained strength as he ran. He searched for the exit with his eyes, while he kept his ears busy with the ever present Balrog. Stones started tumbling in his path, and at first he thought that the Balrog must've been throwing boulders at him. As more came, and the Caves filled with an evil feeling, he reconized that this had been a trap. { But, how did they know I would be here? } He grimaced in horror, as the cave started filling with Balrog. He prepared for a battle...What happened next, he didn't think he would ever understand...
One of the Balrog stepped foward. He was bigger then the others and apparently their leader. He reached toward his belt, where his mighty sword lay. The Paladin started foward, meaning to get at least one blow in, when the Balrog spoke: "Halt!" The Paladin stopped dead in his tracks.
{ It can talk! }
"Yes, I can talk, feeble-minded human." The Balrog spat in disgust. "I have a message for you. It says that you have your chance now to go back. If you do not, I will be forced to take you prisoner." The Paladin was stunned.
{ 'Since when did Hell's demons speak? }
The Balrog smiled, showing sharp teeth and a breath with the reeking smell of death. "I am Rarg The Tainted, if you would like to refer to me as something other then Balrog, Herios." The Paladin was once again taken back.
{ How did he know my name? } Rarg sniffed.
"Ignorant mortals. You don't think we've been watching you by chance, do you? How else would we have set you up for this?" He gestured around him. "Now, are you going to turn back or not?"
Herios thought for a second then said: "One question." Rarg nodded. "Why would the Three want me as a prisoner?" Rarg shrugged his massive shoulders.
"Who knows? Their buisness is their own. We are only the enforcers."
Herios nodded. He had expected as much an answer. He sought his own heart for a moment. While deep in thought, he caught a clear image of an enraged Barbarian, tearing through what looked like the legendary town of Tristram. He lifted his head, knowing that is where they would take him. He threw his mace to the ground. "I'm not going anywhere. You'll either have to take me prisoner, or I'll fight until my death."
The Balrogs laughed at this, but Rarg, apparently the only one able to speak in "mortal tongues", spoke: "Fine. You'll be coming with us then." He rose his hands into the sky, preparing the portal to Tristram...
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Teiln trudged on, dreary, but on the alert. He had gotten as far as the Jungle when he met real trouble. His mana was drained, and he was traveling alone, without protection. He had hoped to find some kind of town, yet all he found were destroyed villa's and wrecked homes. Picking through the ruins, he had managed to find some food, but nothing that would keep him alive for long. He had to find somewhere to rest, and soon.
Bran heard another coming from behind. He sniffed the air. { Death! Bad smell! } He immediatly turned around to face this thing. He had no idea what he was planning on attacking, would later become one of his many new friends.
Areith, the Sorceress, stopped suddenly as she heard a sharp cry from behind her. "Whatever's been following me has decided it's time." She turned, ready for the battle. Yet, she didn't see anything around here. She heard a male voice yell all of a sudden, calling for...His mother? She hurried toward the voice, careful to stay on the trail she had made through here. She was almost to the source of the voice, when she heard another.
"Quiet, you fool! I'm not going to hurt you." She stepped ahead a bit, seeing a huge man, and a withered, old one. The old man was walking away from the other, who was on the ground, rocking back and forth. She came from her hiding, and called for the old man. He turned around, a grim look upon his face. He raised his eyebrows.
"What did you do to him?" She said, while gesturing toward the other man.
The old man uttered a small laugh. "Guess at what I am, then maybe you'll find out." She looked clueless, so he decided to help her a little. He gestured toward the ground. "Watch..." He started chanting. Very quickly and without warning, a creature came from the ground. The huge man shrank back and gave a startled cry. The old man looked at him in half-disgust, half-amusement. The Sorc understood now.
"Necromancer..." She lifted her upper lip in a snarl.
"Death." The huge man said. "Death. Bad." The old man shook his head.
"A Barbarian I see." He tapped his head. "Not too smart, this one. But, apparently in tune with something, even if it's not his own mind." He crouched down to the Barb. "What's your name, smarty?"
The Sorc stepped foward to stop his cruelness, when the Barb spoke.
"You not evil...Just death." He stopped rocking and looked up. "Bran. Bran my name." The Necro nodded.
"I'm Teiln. I'm not here to harm anyone. Just to restore balance." He got up, looking at the Sorc, grinning slightly. "He yours?"
"No."
"Well, he seemed to have been following you." The Sorc grinned.
"So, this is the person that's been eating my scraps." Teiln looked confused, but just shrugged. He started to walk off again, when Bran called out suddenly.
"Stop!"
Teiln turned."What now? Do you want to be cursed again?" Bran shook his head. "Then go away."
He continued walking. Bran got up and grabbed his arm.
"No. You go with us."
The Necro looked at Bran's huge hand, then to Areith. "What's he doing?"
She shrugged. "Like I said, I don't know him."
The Necro looked close into Bran's suprisingly calm eyes, and caught a vision. The Necromancer was alone, strugling against some unseen force. He fought as long as he could, but eventually he died. Then, another vision came. This time, he was with four others. The Sorc that stood before him, a Paladin, and two young Amazons. He turned his head in this vision, seeing this Barbarian, standing before a great terror. One that had haunted him into going on this quest...Diablo...